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Tuesday, March 10, 2015

THE MEMORY OF NOTHING IMPORTANT

Hello
everyone and welcome to another edition of Me Talking. I remember once I was at a party. The party
was being held inside a small party hall on the north side of Chicago, although
the name I don’t remember at the time. Upon entering the event I was taken
aback by the amount of people there. I mean we are talking about 100+ people
stuffed into this small party floor. The music was grand, and the people were
abnormal. Now, I was 15 at the time being accompanied by my twin sister. We
enjoyed ourselves very much and left at about one or so. I thought the party was
great. A couple of days passed, and the memory soon faded away. Recently, I was
walking down the hallway on a cold February morning, when my name was called
out. I turned, and before me stood a plain, short white girl. I could have
sworn I had never met the girl in my life, so you can understand the sort of
shock I was in. I stood there as she approached me, and we spoke:

Me:
Yes?

Her:
you don’t remember me?

Me:
(pause for a moment) I’m afraid I don’t.

Her:
you were at *****’s party weren’t you?

Me:
Yeah, I remember that.

Her:
Yeah, how are you?

Me:
Well, I’m kinda good. You know, around.

Her:
That’s good. Well, I’ll see you around then.

The bell rang, so I was
late to my class. I have nothing wrong with people stopping for a quick chat
with me in the hallway, but I was questioning what the girl was planning on
happening. Did she expect some kind of friendship to arise from this one
experience? I was polite, I mean, what was the point of making her feel bad? I
have not seen that girl since, and no one seems to know her, which led me to
question my mental state itself. Isn’t that sort of crazy? If I were to tell
someone about this experience I know they wouldn’t believe me. Now that I
noticed, I never received the girl’s name! It’s odd to be a part of something,
and not be a part of it at the same time. I’m really writing this post to sort
of assure myself that this experience happened. Funny, isn’t it? That’s why I
feel especially sore when I study the schizophrenics and the Alzheimer’s
disease victims. I can’t imagine the idea of forgetting something about myself
or someone whom I have spent a long time with. I really can’t. Whenever I think
of that experience now, I like to think of how strong we really are in our
memory. When I pass, how can one really be sure that your name or your face or
even if it was just the way you walked or a moment when your voice was heard?
It’s interesting to think about those things sometimes.